


We may be at drift, but you always come back like a gift

by 0Hedvig0



Series: Childhood friends [7]
Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Best Friends, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Love towards animal, M/M, Post-Canon, Spoilers, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-19
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-18 04:56:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28861419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/0Hedvig0/pseuds/0Hedvig0
Summary: Still being in Norway, Eivor finds himself in a situation he's not prepared for. And still being affected by the scar of Basim's dagger, Eivor struggle to find a way out of the danger.The moon was up by now, giving confirmation they’d been hiding for a while. His eyes have since some time begun drooping and he willed the body to not get the daily suffering from the scars of Basim’s dagger. The makeshift dressing around his torso by his cloak had bled through and he knew they had to get back to safety....I recommend to read the other parts that comes before this one to truly understand every detail...
Relationships: Eivor/Vili, Eivor/Vili Hemmingson, Male Eivor/Vili Hemmingson
Series: Childhood friends [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2042719
Comments: 2
Kudos: 21





	We may be at drift, but you always come back like a gift

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, while playing AC:V I had to get this scene written, it didn't turn out quite as I wanted, but close enough for me to publish :)
> 
> Thanks for all the Kudos, I really appreciate y'all showing that you like it :)  
> _____________________  
> Question:  
> I've begun written a smut part, but not sure if I should publish or not... would y'all be interested to read if I do?  
> ______________________
> 
> This is hastily written (I have art and writers block)  
> English not my first language  
> Not beta read, I'm just writing for fun.

Several cursed words- worthy to put a blush on Hel- coursed through Eivor’s head while pressing a hand against the right side of his ribs. Hooves neared from behind and he knew he couldn’t push Mirrsu any further. The ambush had taken them by surprise. They’d traveled a whole day and his four legged companion was tired and needed them to set up camp, but that’s when they striked.

A Zealot warrior Eivor never heard about - or zealots still existing in Norway- was suddenly standing in his way on the smaller path, but he barely had any time to comprehend what was happening before a dagger was thrown in his direction. The sharp blade sliced deeply along the skin on his ribs- separating muscle and skin down to the bones.

Eivor’s crew had scattered when the place was overrun by warriors with unknown colors- knowing they didn’t stand a chance being just five to forty and a zealot- and he scorned himself for not listening to Vili who wanted to take another route.

In an attempt of distraction, a tune was heard between Eivor’s chapped lips and soon the familiar caw sounded and something like a body falling off a horse. Now smiling of relief, Eivor let Mirrsu put some distance between them and the threat, before quickly jumping off the stallion and taking the reins. Seeing the shaking muscles- the black coat shining with sweat- the guilt tugged at his heart as Eivor tried to find a place to hide.

“Hush, my boy” Eivor murmured - hand caressing along the muzzle- when finding bushes big enough to cover them in the darkening evening. 

Mirrsu’s harsh breathing echoed in the quietness of the forest, but the stallion quickly calmed by the soft touch of his human and eagerly pushed against the warmth of the hand. Being emptied of energy, the legs soon gave out and he was forced to lay down. His human’s worried voice sounded near his ears and all Mirrsu wanted was to give peace, that he just needed some rest.

“Okay, just for a while, then you need to stand” Eivor mostly told himself, to reassure that this probably was natural for a horse to do, and sat - a painful throaty groan and still one hand as pressure over the deep wound- between Mirrsu’s front and back legs. With slow, circular motions his hand brushed along the neck “You will be fine” and Mirrsu answered by rubbing his head against Eivor’s, bringing a loving chuckle from the blonde vikingr.

***

The chilly air was creeping up on them, slowly making his skin shiver and Eivor snuggled closer to the warm horse- puff of air starting to show for each breath. In a distance he could decipher the echoes of voices, voices which weren't familiar to him and he prayed that Mirrsu would keep being quiet. The horse’s breathing was still too heavy for his conscience to force the horse up and carry them back home or regroup with their crew. 

The moon was up by now, giving confirmation they’d been hiding for a while. His eyes have since some time begun drooping- head resting on the horse’s stomach- and he willed the body to not get the daily suffering from the scars of Basim’s dagger. The makeshift dressing around his torso by his cloak- pressing at the deep wound on the ribs- had bled through and under it his chest was covered with a mix of fresh and crispy dried blood.

A sensation on his neck- like prickling of needles- abruptly made Eivor stand, eyes surveying the area. Something in the air felt wrong and he pulled at the reins, making the horse groan while standing.

“Come” came as a mumble as Eivor began leading Mirrsu through the darkness of the forest- crouching to lessen the risk of being discovered. 

Pain increased through his body when moving, white flashes blinding him by a sudden ache in his head. Not now, he pleaded silently to himself as sweat broke out all over his skin, he needed to get to safety before the poisonous darkness swallowed him again- agony from the scar on his abdomen making itself known again.

A soft push against his back startled Eivor, where he’d stopped walking without knowing, and he glanced over his shoulder at the black stallion- agony reducing by the distraction. He smiled thankfully at his friend before turning onto one of the smaller paths, away from the voices- which grew lower for each step taken. 

“There you are” came as a growl on Eivor’s right side, making him grab one of his axes- gaze unfocused by pain while by instinct stepping in front of Mirrsu. 

The large Zealot- reminding of a monster- came out of nowhere where the face was hidden by a helmet. With a large sword in each hand and swift in the man’s step, Eivor quickly calculated that his own chance of survival was low, but never would he cower in fear while standing before this threat.

To the wind’s song of rustling leaves- cloaks swaying like moving in water- two sets of eyes glared murderous at each other while the tension between the two warriors grew thicker.

“You’re the one called Wolf-Kissed?” the dark voice rumbled as the Zealot grabbed onto the helmet and threw it to the side, revealing a face half burnt like it’d been in a raging fire. Eivor’s face remained unbothered- drops of sweat rolling down by restraining the evidence of agony- and kept silent as the monster before held him with dark eyes “The one everyone are calling Wolf-Kissed did this to me,” the Zealot pointed at burnt side of the face, then snarled “so I repeat myself once more. Are you the one they all call Wolf-Kissed?” while taking a stand, ready to fight.

It took everything to not show any of his weaknesses when Eivor chose to speak “I am” and released the reins of Mirrsu as he ordered the horse to run away from the threat. 

The chilly air that before made Eivor shiver, now felt nice to the feverish skin and he readied himself to fight for his life- taking both axes in a firm grip.

A smile appeared on the other man’s lips “I can feel the power surfacing from your body. It makes me understand why they all fear you,” but then the smile grew into a grin resembling the demons of Hel and the man raised his arms “but your eyes tells me a different saga” and he threw himself at Eivor with such speed making it almost impossible to dodge the blow.

Eivor rammed his elbow into the larger body and pushed him away with a hard kick, making the warrior stumble backwards. But he quickly found his footing and made a move with his swords, barely missing Eivor’s neck who slides along the ground, under the swing. 

With one of the daggers in his belt, Eivor threw it at the gap he’d seen in the Zealot’s breeches, hitting just above the foot and causing a roar from the warrior and blood to flow from the wound. But, the icy blue eyes just had time to widen, before Eivor was forced to roll to try avoiding the other man's foot, but failed and was kicked at his side- ripping the makeshift dressing from the fresh wound on the ribs. 

“Odin’s balls” Eivor gasped as he clambered to stand, axes in both hands. Warm fluid trickled down his ribs and stomach -already red by dried blood- as Eivor tried to focus his wavering gaze on the now limping monster.

Circling around Eivor- like a predator to a wounded prey- the Zealot seemed pleased at what he saw. And Eivor already knew he was fast, yet he wasn’t prepared at how fast the Zealot truly was. The leather pouch was thrown before Eivor knew it and smoke engulfed him- turning lungs into a coughing mess- and his bracers scarcely shielded him in time when one of the swords came into view, nicking deep into the metal on them and throwing him onto the ground.

Eivor’s lungs tried to get the unnatural substances out of him as he rolled on the ground to avoid the other sword coming down onto him- gravel spraying by the force when hitting the ground. With a swift motion, Eivor turned around and felled the Zealot with his leg and quickly crawled to grab his axes, throwing one of them and catching the other warrior in the arm. 

Eivor didn’t care to check, but carried himself with unsteady legs to take cover behind a tree- muscles protesting and shivering and eyes swimming by agony. Just as Eivor rounded the tree, a  _ thunk  _ was heard next to his head- the edge of the sword sticking out- and he quickly took a step away from the tree. 

The roar gave away the attack and Eivor easily blocked the incoming sword with his remaining axe, but the force of the blow made him stumble back and he didn’t have time to see before feeling a punch to his face. Dizziness overtook Eivor’s sight for a moment, but the glare his eyes conjured when he’d found the focus again made the Zealot lose the shit eating grin on his face. Shaking of the pain and agony, Eivor has had enough of this bastard.

Eivor felt like his old self when the muscles moved in sync to do a well known throw with the axe, where it dug itself into the shoulder of the warrior. The rush of wind and adrenaline made everything feel like before, as he sprinted to pull the sword out of the tree trunk, doing a round kick and thrusting the sword into the skull of the staggering fiend. Eivor wanted to smile- bloody teeth showing- and gloat at the dead foe of his. Instead he fell to his knees by the overbearing pain he before withheld but now- the threat being gone- it was searing through his body.

A sudden gurgle behind him startled Eivor to turn around- losing balance and falling onto elbow- and saw one of the unknown warriors who’d accompany the Zealot, with a dagger ready to kill. But, then the warrior fell down next to Eivor, dead, revealing Vili with his own dagger drawn- blade dripping with fresh blood. 

What to them felt like an eternity- two shades of blue locked onto each other- was over in an instant when Vili noticed the blood. His face twisted into worry while he in a hurry kneeled next to the blonde vikingr. The pale sweaty face didn’t calm down the nerves or the heart thumping against Vili’s ribs- giving the impression of trying to break through bones- neither didn’t the forced smile on his friend's lips.

“I-” Eivor’s voice broke and he swallowed to ease his dry throat “I’m fine, Vili” but the words did nothing to soothe his friend- eyes still flowing with worry. Pushing himself sitting, Eivor sighed “What with the other ones?” in an attempt to change subject.

Vili’s hands were there in an instant when the face in front of him twisted into a more rooted agony “We lured them into a trap, killed every last of them” the voice was toneless, his only focus on Eivor. Holding much of Eivor’s weight to have him sitting, the line between Vili’s brows deepens “I searched for you” he whispered.

The icy blue eyes met Vili’s and Eivor’s lips raised into a soft smile, but then confusion painted his face “How did you find me?” the whisper was barely heard- the energy draining into nothing by the feeling of being safe- as Vili threw Eivor’s arm around his shoulder.

Nodding at Mirrsu, Vili explained “You have a very good companion” and even though the movements of Vili lifting him into standing gave Eivor the urge to scream, his smile only widened into a sincere one by Vili’s words.

“That I do” Eivor came to a stop, or more like stopped letting Vili drag him towards the waiting stallion. 

Vili grunted by the sudden reluctance to follow and turned to hold the shorter man closer to his chest. Just to keep him steady, Vili said silently to himself, even though he knew it was because of so much more than just to keep Eivor from falling. He needed the confirmation that warm blood still ran within the body of someone dear to him. 

“We need to get you to our camp” a bloody hand cupped Eivor’s face as another wave of relief swirled inside Vili’s chest by seeing his friend alive.

“Yeah, just,” With eyes hooded by fatigued, Eivor examined Vili’s face and then sighed “I keep being reminded that I need to thank the gods”.

“Thank the gods?” Vili murmured as he brushed a thumb along Eivor’s chin- leaving a trail of another man’s blood. His throat thickened by the trembling hands grasping at his leather coated arms, he’d always hated seeing Eivor like this. Before Vili’s thoughts could dig themselves deeper into memories filled with despair, they were cut off by the smooth voice of his best friend.

“Tho battle maintain the head restless, as high above the blood eagle drift. Inside the chest remains a bless, even though we may be at drift” even if Eivor’s voice was weak, the words were as strong as the warrior he was and Vili found himself at awe towards his best friend. 


End file.
